


Catch and Release

by j_quadrifrons



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: F/M, M/M, Manipulation, Non-Consensual Kissing, Timeline? What's that?, fear politics, web!Elias?, web/beholding courtship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-02
Updated: 2019-08-02
Packaged: 2020-07-29 17:30:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20086036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/j_quadrifrons/pseuds/j_quadrifrons
Summary: "There's someone who's expressed an interest in meeting you," Elias says, handing Jon one of his business cards with an address scribbled on the back, not in Elias's handwriting.





	Catch and Release

**Author's Note:**

> MAG147 made me ship this, apparently, and now I'm stuck here.

"There's someone who's expressed an interest in meeting you," Elias says, handing Jon one of his business cards with an address scribbled on the back, not in Elias's handwriting. "I think you'll find it...instructive."

"Prison hasn't changed you at all, has it?" Jon snaps back. "Never any clear answers." But he takes the card all the same. It feels sticky for a moment, but he rubs his fingers over the pebbled cardstock and decides he must have been mistaken.

Elias just smirks. "I'll see you when you get back, Jon."

The address turns out to be a small suburban row house, indistinguishable in any meaningful way from any other house in the surrounding neighborhood. The lace curtains in the windows offer a tantalizing hint of the interior, but there isn't actually anything to see from the street. Jon sets his shoulders and takes a deep breath. He's a monster too now, he reminds himself. He's frightening in his own right.

He knocks on the door, three hollow raps that echo more than they ought to, and a moment later the door swings open to reveal a tall, dark-skinned woman wearing a white lace dress and a polka-dotted headwrap. She smiles at him, all teeth. "Jon," she says warmly, "come in." She draws back to let him enter.

"Said the spider to the fly?" he mutters, but he finishes climbing the stairs to the door anyway. She hasn't moved far enough out of the doorway that he can pass by without brushing up against her, and he has the distinct sensation of too many limbs. She smiles at his flinch and waits for him to stand in the entryway, arms folded tight against his chest, before she closes the door with a loud snap and leads him down the hall. This time only her skirt brushes against his leg as she passes, but Jon feels like she's even closer than before.

Annabelle - he might be afraid, but he isn't a fool, he knows who she is - offers him tea, which he declines, and a chair, which he accepts. She pours herself a cup from a delicate china teapot, sits with her ankles crossed, and watches Jon try not to look around for spiderwebs. Fortunately he doesn't need to twist his head around any more to see the corners behind him, but he's pretty sure she knows he's looking anyway.

The silence stretches on while Annabelle drinks her tea and Jon watches. He's determined not to ask the first question, though he can feel them gathering on the back of his tongue. If Elias sent him here and she was waiting for him, then surely one of them can explain themselves. Besides, he's distracted by the intricate patterns that flash across his vision just before he blinks. They emanate from Annabelle, naturally, but he can't quite tell if any of them have touched him.

Finally she finishes her tea, setting the cup down in the saucer and both on the table. The rattle of china is extremely loud in the silence. She folds her hands delicately and says, "You've been busy. I appreciate you taking the time to come and see me in person."

Jon laughs, bitter and unfamiliar. They've been frantically looking for answers, but none are forthcoming. As usual. He tells her as much. "Elias sent me here," he adds, although he hadn't meant to.

"Of course he did." She doesn't sound surprised, but her smile becomes just a little smug. It echoes the look on Elias's face when he'd sent Jon off, and a flash of irritation burns away the last of his patience.

"Why?" The simplest of questions, but the force of the compulsion behind it takes his breath away. He blinks, and the webs shiver with it, fiercely at first but softer and softer the closer they come to Annabelle, until it hardly touches her at all.

She smiles at him again, indulgent, and tips her head like a predator. The spots on her headwrap span her temples like too many eyes. She is very, very still. "Repayment of a debt," she says, and watches him closely for his reaction.

There are many things that could mean, but none he can imagine that end well for him. Jon scrambles to his feet, the fear that's been simmering in him since that hollow, familiar knock finally stronger than his curiosity. He doesn't dare turn his back on her, so he starts inching backwards toward the door.

It's Annabelle's turn to laugh. It's a beautiful laugh, low and ringing, and it chimes against Jon's terror until the reverberations fill his whole body. She stands and walks toward him, long, confident strides, and he's stopped moving back. He doesn't know if he decided to stop moving or fear has stopped him or Annabelle is holding him still, but he's stopped.

She cups her hands on either side of his face, and the smile on her mouth is still there but it no longer reaches her eyes. "You have nothing to fear from me," she says gently. "We've put far too much work into you." Then she bows her head and kisses him.

She's very thorough. Her hands cradle his skull firmly as she teases at his lips. Jon gasps into it, involuntary, and his mouth fills with dry, clinging webs, chased by Annabelle's tongue. It's the best kiss he's had in years, and it makes his blood run cold. By the time it occurs to him to wrench away, panting, his head is spinning with it. "What - " he gasps, fighting for composure, "what - "

"No more questions, I think," she says, laying a finger briefly to his lips before stepping back. She's folded her arms across her chest, a mirror of his gesture when he'd first arrived, but on her it looks like confidence. "You may go back to your Institute."

Jon wishes he knew if her permission was anything other than a courtesy, if he could have left of his own volition before then, but there's no way to know now, and the only instinct he has left is out out out. He manages not to run.

By the time he reaches the Institute he's managed to stop the trembling in his hands, but Annabelle's words are still circling in his head. _Repayment of a debt_. He goes straight for Elias's office, not bothering to knock. "Why did you send me out to meet Annabelle Caine?"

Elias closes his eyes and breathes deeply, just once, in and out. Then he looks up at Jon, and though his face is carefully neutral his eyes are bright. "We both thought it was time," he says simply.

It's barely an answer, clearly demanding further questions, and Jon is torn between the need to know and a stubborn reluctance to give Elias what he wants. Especially if he's going to react like that. He grips the back of the visitor's chair in front of Elias's desk and fights the compulsion down; it's never done him any good anyway. "I'm not some - some _pawn_ for the two of you to trade back and forth," he snaps instead, wishing it felt more true than it does.

"Of course not, Jon," Elias says soothingly as he rises from his chair and circles his desk. "All your choices have been your own, I told you that before." He comes to stand just a little too close and now Jon's the one looking up at him, trying to maintain his glare. "It's still true," he adds. Elias is standing, in fact, just as close as Annabelle did before she took his face in her hands and -- Jon drags his gaze from Elias's mouth back up to his eyes. They look hungry.

"Then what are you playing at? What is your relationship with Annabelle Cain?" Jon asks, and he doesn't have to think to put power into it.

The soft exhale Elias gives in response brushes across Jon's cheek and he licks his lips. He refuses to back down now. He needs to know. Elias is smiling again. "We trade things back and forth," he murmurs, so softly Jon nearly strains forward to hear it.

Elias's kiss is softer than Annabelle's, more searching. His hands rest on Jon's waist and he crowds in, pressing their bodies together, all the while tasting, exploring. Jon finds himself leaning into it, curious but also reluctant to submit so easily. He kisses back, and Elias shivers against him (_just like the compulsion_, Jon thinks) and responds with a brief scrape of teeth before pulling away. He's still so close Jon can feel the heat of him.

"Not a pawn, Jon," Elias whispers into his ear. "The queen."

**Author's Note:**

> Please come yell about TMA with me, I have too many feelings  
[@j_quadrifrons](https://twitter.com/j_quadrifrons), [backofthebookshelf](https://backofthebookshelf.tumblr.com)


End file.
